


Studying

by yeaka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Hand Jobs, M/M, MWPP Era, Marauders' Era, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 04:11:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/630237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus and Remus study for Potions together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I'm not making any money off this.

Severus understands why Potter and Black don’t like him. He even understands why Pettigrew doesn’t like him. What he doesn’t understand is why they think he’s stupid. He has no delusions about their ‘perfect picnic spot,’ which they announced rather loudly. He’s very aware that they’re there to spy on him, despite Remus’ clear orders that they shouldn’t.

“Are they bothering you?” Remus asks when he catches Severus staring.

Severus quickly whips his head back around and hisses plainly, “No.”

Remus frowns. Severus is a talented Legilimens, but apparently Remus doesn’t need that to read him. After a minute, he mumbles, “Sorry.”

Severus shakes his head and growls harsher than he means to, “It’s not your fault.”

“It is,” Remus insists. His eyebrows are knit together, and Severus hates himself for thinking of how cute Remus looks when he’s worried. “They’re my friends, and I think we both know their ‘picnic’ is no coincidence. I mean... at least they’re far enough back that they probably can’t hear us, but...” He shakes his head. “Look, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Severus repeats, and he means it. He got over blaming Remus for his friends’ many, many issues ago. (Even the wolf incident which, as mortifying and horrendous as it was, was really _Black’s_ fault. And maybe Potter’s, though he denies it.) If Severus hadn’t forgiven Remus, they’d both be failing Potions, as they’ve been paired up and aren’t allowed to hand in separate work. When Severus first realized he’d be paired with Remus he was borderline ecstatic. (Well, for himself, anyway.) Severus is brilliant at the subject alone, and Remus is the only one in the class who doesn’t resent him for it, and Remus calmly and obediently follows his lead. Remus is intelligent in his own right, and reliable, and timely with his homework. He’s easily the best partner Severus’ could’ve asked for—certainly better than Pettigrew, who he somehow ended up with last year.

He can only imagine how Remus felt upon their pairing, but can guess it wasn’t similar. Remus probably spent the night scowling and enduring either pity or teasing from Potter and Black. When they first started, Remus was much quieter than he is now, and then he was just ‘Lupin.’ Remus hasn’t called him ‘Snape’ once, and more importantly, hasn’t called him ‘Snivellus,’ although Potter and Black have doubled up on picking on him after their brief lapse following ‘the incident.’ Severus only survives the constant bullying by reminding himself that he’s won, in a way: he gets plenty of private Remus-time now, and he can clearly see that it bothers them to no end.

Severus is no angel. He plays on this as he leans over Remus’ scroll, purposely too close, muttering, “That’s spelled with an ‘e’.” They’re sitting knee-to-knee between two trees on the edge of the forest, facing each other with their books in their laps. Remus is jotting down notes and Severus is doing research for an essay and, technically, they don’t have to be together for either of those things. Remus didn’t protest when Severus asked to study together, and Severus is still a little shocked over it.

Remus looks up and smiles. “Thank you.” Severus leans back to his own tree with a smirk. When Remus looks down again, Severus turns to look at the picnic blanket a couple dozen meters away. Black is glaring at him heatedly and nudges Potter, and then Potter looks up and joins in. Severus sneers nastily, and Remus mutters, “Severus?”

Severus snaps his head around as though he wasn’t looking.

Remus grins coyly and mumbles, “I don’t know what they’re trying to see from over there.”

“Me stabbing you,” Severus quips. Remus laughs warmly, and the pleasant sound makes Severus stiffen and turn a bit pink. Remus has a beautiful laugh, like he has a beautiful everything. He’s a glowing ball of pleasantness that Severus has no right to be around, and that thought makes him scowl. He shouldn’t think that and has no idea why he does. He _knows_ what’s underneath.

As usual, Remus doesn’t seem at all deterred by his depressing demeanor. “Or maybe you kissing me,” he says smoothly. When Severus’ black eyes go wide as saucers, Remus adds, “Or me kissing you?”

Severus opens his mouth to retort but finds his mouth too dry. It takes him a minute to mutter, “I don’t think any of us suffer from that delusion.”

Remus’ smile could light up the dark. As soon as he leans forward, Severus goes stiff as a stone. His eyes squeeze shut automatically, for no particular reason, and he feels a soft peck land on his nose. When Severus creaks his eyes back open, Remus is hovering a centimeter away, and he purrs, “Have I ever told you how much I like your nose?”

Severus mutters thickly without thinking, “Have I ever told you you’re insane?”

Remus laughs again and says happily, “Of course, I rather love your wit, too.” And he leans forward again to peck Severus on the forehead—this time Severus’ eyes stay open, going cross-eyed. This seriously cannot be happening to him. Logically, he’s dozed off at some point, and is now conjuring the beginnings of the best sort of wet dream—the kind that involves Remus able to stomach him. He’s supposed to be mired in resentment, not... _this._

Severus doesn’t grab Remus and shove his tongue down Remus’ throat like he wants to, because there’s a crowd of other Gryffindors within eyeshot that are going to absolutely murder him. Instead he mumbles, “Thanks,” and then turns a bright red, feeling inordinately stupid.

Remus simply chirps, “No problem,” and settles back to finish his notes.

Severus spends the next thirty minutes pretending to read and methodically flipping the pages, whilst stewing in conflicted inner turmoil, giddy daydreams and warmth.

At the end of it, they have to go back to the castle, because it’s getting dark, and Remus asks almost tentatively, “Can I walk you?”


	2. Chapter 2

When Severus first suggested studying in the Slytherin common room, he was, of course, being sarcastic. Remus isn’t stupid. He can read Severus like a book. ...He just also has a bit of an impish streak in him and rather likes to call Severus on his bluffs.

So now they’re in the Slytherin common room, curled up on a sofa by the fire. It’s late, and most of the other students have already gone to bed, and Remus has thoroughly explained to his fellow marauders that he needs to be here to study and that they shouldn’t worry. James and Sirius were quick to point out that Severus is as poorly liked by Slytherins as he is by Gryffindors, and it isn’t the safest idea, especially with how he first reacted to Sirius’ awful ‘prank.’ Remus was quick to point out that the marauders rarely do anything safe, and honestly, he’s a werewolf: he can handle a few Slytherin students.

It turns out, he doesn’t have to. All the seventh years ignore Severus and, by extension, Remus, and there seems to be enough of a hierarchy in Slytherin that the younger years don’t mess with them. Remus would also like to think that Severus doesn’t have so many enemies as he perceives; he is, in his own way, strangely likeable.

Right now he’s bent low over a textbook, skimming it with intense concentration and a trademark frown. Severus’ dedication to their work isn’t lost on Remus. After hanging out with his athletic, trouble-making friends all day, it’s nice to be around a true intellectual. Remus knows he can discuss almost any subject in the world with Severus (except Quidditch) and perhaps even learn a few things. Severus abruptly flicks his hair out of his eyes as he flips the page, but it just falls back where it was. The dark curtains look so silky up close that Remus would really like to run his fingers through them—he really doesn’t understand James’ and Sirius’ complaint with Severus’ hair.

Severus catches him staring before he can look away. Remus lowers his gaze with a faint blush and looks back at his notes, which are far less interesting than Severus is.

Severus is so close that their legs are touching. Severus’ are over the edge of the sofa and Remus’ are under himself, folded. It’s cold in the dungeons, and Severus is on the end facing the fireplace, so it’s only made sense for Remus to cuddle up to him. He may have ulterior motives, but he tried to look as innocent as possible while doing it.

When Remus looks back, Severus is still watching him, and this time he doesn’t look away. There’s a deep look of mingled concentration and confusion on Severus’ face, like he’s trying to work out a particularly complicated problem. And that problem is Remus.

Remus means to ask, ‘what,’ but instead says, “Sorry.” And then turns redder. For staring, he means. Severus’ expression doesn’t change, and Remus finds himself struggling to hold that strong gaze. (But he’s not one to back away from a challenge.)

After a minute, Severus mutters, “...Why’d you kiss me the other day?”

Oh. Well. Remus wasn’t expecting that. “I...” Remus’ mouth works soundlessly for a moment, too surprised to be as smooth as usual. “I was... just teasing James and Sirius, since they were spying on us, and... um, I’m sorry.” His voice comes out very level and not-sorry-sounding. Which is technically fine, because he isn’t.

The only thing that makes his flat stare okay is the fact that Severus is doing it too. It gets to the point where Remus almost feels like he’s being tested, and he can’t look away. Then Severus does something very unexpected, and Remus has to lower his eyelids.

Because Severus is leaning into him, head tilting, and softly, gently, slow-as-ice, pressing their lips together. Remus turns into it, lashes brushing his cheeks. Severus’ lips are warm and soft. Severus smells faintly of herbal shampoo. It’s just a quick, chaste kiss, barely more than a peck. But Remus still feels breathless when Severus pulls away.

Severus seems to examine him. It’s the same way he looks at potion ingredients and homework. Remus feels sort of like he’s being probed, and he tries to say with his eyes that he was very much okay with that, because his mouth isn’t working.

Fortunately, Severus seems to deduce that all on his own. He leans in for another kiss, and this time Remus lunges forward, smashing their bodies together. Severus makes a muffled grunt at the impact, but it’s swallowed in Remus’ lips. He pushes his tongue against Severus’ mouth, and Severus’ own tongue snakes out to meet him, and it escalates so quickly that Remus’ head is swimming. It’s a passionate, whirlwind make-out session in minutes, and Remus knocks all of the books off their laps to turn properly to Severus, and Severus turns properly to him. Remus practically climbs into Severus’ lap as he presses Severus back into the armrest, back towards the heat of the fire. Severus’ hands tentatively climb to Remus’ sides, inside his robes. Remus breaks the kiss to gasp and moan.

He’s always liked Severus, in one way or another. He doesn’t care what James or Sirius or even Peter think. He didn’t think he could ever do anything about it, but as classes and homework drive them together and Remus becomes more and more brave, his friends are less able to drive them apart. Wanting to express all this and more in words he doesn’t have, Remus pecks Severus again on the nose. Severus scrunches it up and quickly darts a hand over it.

Remus says, “I like your nose,” and then blushes, feeling stupid. He wants to apologize for every dumb thing his friends have ever done to Severus, for the _terrible_ wrong Sirius committed, but then they’d be here all night. How Severus can stand him after everything blows his mind, but apparently Severus isn’t holding any of it against him anymore.

After a minute, Severus lowers his hand again and says very matter-of-factly, “I like you.” It sounds very cautious, as though he’s treading through murky, piranha-filled water. It’s a very... Severus confession.

Remus just smiles very wide and says, “I like you, too.”

Severus looks like he doesn’t quite believe it, but he still goes in for another kiss, which Remus happily mewls into. He slides his hands up Severus to rest on Severus’ shoulders and then to slide through his hair. Remus practically purrs when he finally gets his fingers in those long, dark locks, just as silky as he thought they’d be. He brushes through them softly and can’t help but make loose fists, holding Severus in. Severus shudders—a sign, Remus thinks, that he likes it.

Severus’ own hands are traveling southward down Remus’ body and hesitate at his hips. Remus makes a gasping sound as Severus traces the hem of his trousers, and he arches up into Severus’ chest, arms wrapping around Severus’ neck. He’s lifting a bit up on his knees; Severus is taller, even sitting down. Severus parts his legs so Remus can shift in between them, getting closer, so close that they’re pressed tightly together, chest to chest. Remus can feel the faint outline of Severus’ heartbeat, just as quick as his own. It’s a good thing they’re both hard workers and studying so late. Because the common room is empty now, and if anyone took this back to the marauders, Remus would be dead tomorrow. ...Not that he particularly cares at the moment... His head’s a foggy mess.

Severus is lightly tracing his fly when Remus parts their lips enough to whisper breathily, “Touch me.” He knows he sounds wanton, but he can’t help it. So much, so fast. But they’re both old enough to be filled with lewd fantasies and they’ve already waited while this crush formed. Severus shudders again at the words, looking half-lidded and ravenous, and his dark eyes are clouded with lust. Remus wants to kiss him senseless, and he gasps loudly when Severus tentatively begins to undo his fly.

Severus kisses around to his ear and hisses, “Can I?”

“Yes,” Remus mumbles. He bucks into Severus’ hand for emphasis. “Severus...” How many times has he dreamt of this? ...Why did they wait so long, if...?

“So cute,” Severus mumbles against his cheek, right as the zipper goes down. Severus parts the fabric with ease—but Remus has always known that Severus is good with his hands. Remus didn’t think he’d ever get to feel just how good, though, and the possibilities leave him trembling.

Severus doesn’t pull Remus out; he just slips his hands in. Remus groans just as loudly and bucks into it, biting his lower lip and clutching Severus tightly. Severus pecks his cheek and surrounds him, fingers curling just so, palm warm against his cock. Remus mewls and ruts into it, desperate and needy. Severus doesn’t even have to move. Remus practically fucks himself with Severus’ hand. Severus does move, though, and every stroke leaves Remus in a quivering mess. Severus twists just right, squeezes just right, his skin is so smooth and his fingers are so long. Remus leans in to kiss him again, wishing he could properly express just how in heaven he is.

Severus kisses him back with just as much desperation. Severus kisses him like a starving man, and Severus’ other hand slides through Remus’ hair, holding him in by the back of his neck. Remus moans and whimpers into him with every touch, every caress. Severus is slow and deliberate, measured and paced. Remus wants to grind into him, but also wants it just like this, because it’s so painfully _Severus_ , and Remus can’t think of anything hotter.

When Severus tries to break the kiss, Remus won’t let him, following his lips hungrily. Severus eventually has to tug his head back by his hair, and Severus kisses at his chin and jaw whilst hissing quietly, “Will you go out with me?”

“Yes,” Remus breathes, so heady he can’t think straight. “Yes...” He whines loudly at a particularly skillful squeeze and moans, “Merlin, Severus, Yesss...”

Severus lets go of his hair, and Remus immediately smashes their lips back together. He kisses Severus so fiercely that he almost worries the wolf will come out, and he can’t help but grind into Severus’ hand like an animal. When he comes, it’s with a barely stifled shriek between his grit teeth, eyes rolling up and head throwing back. He bursts inside his pants, and Severus growls suddenly, kissing him so hard that Remus topples backwards, Severus falling atop him. When Severus pulls his sticky hand out of Remus’ trousers, he grabs Remus by the waist and starts rutting into him, and Remus can feel the bulge in Severus’ trousers. It makes him moan again and writhe in Severus’ arms. He’s too satiated to do much other than let Severus hump him, but he wishes he could do more.

“You’re amazing,” Remus mumbles, and he means it. Severus, in this moment, is the most gorgeous thing Remus has even seen. His cheeks are red, his lips are kiss-swollen and parted, his pupils are dilated and his lids are down. His hair is matted and disheveled, and he’s glistening in a few beads of sweat. He towers atop Remus like a dark Adonis, powerful and beautiful.

Severus hisses as he grinds them together, “Come with me to Hogsmeade next weekend...”

Remus nods, mumbling, “Yes. Yes, yes...”

Severus presses a hard kiss to his cheek, growling, “I want you so much.”

And he finishes a second later, collapsing in a panting heap. He’s heavy, but Remus wouldn’t move him for the world. Remus is just as breathless, and together they’re spent and quiet.

After a few minutes, Remus muses quietly, “Do you think I have to go back?”


End file.
